


(my love) i can't hide

by WeeBeastie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff and Angst, M/M, background Silvermadi for 1 of the ficlets, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 10:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: yeah i'll tell you somethingi think you'll understand[a five times/one time ficlet centered around silverflint hand-holding]





	(my love) i can't hide

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post on Tumblr wherein it became obvious that the people needed some Silverflint hand-holding in their lives! Special thanks to Jackie for drawing my attention to the post and requesting a fic like this. <3
> 
> Title and lyrics in the summary borrowed from "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by the Beatles, because obviously.

The first time it happens, Silver is recuperating in Flint's cabin following the most catastrophic incident of his not exactly incident-free life. One moment he's asleep in the window seat and the next he's awake and shouting, breathless with pain, tears stinging his eyes. 

It feels like his left leg below the knee is being crushed, mangled. “Help,” he calls weakly, delirious. A figure approaches him in the darkness and he reaches out, grabbing for the person, taking their hand and _squeezing_ for dear life. Ever so slowly, the pain eases a bit and he comes back to himself. He realizes that the lower half of his leg can't really be hurting, because it's gone. It's strange how much a missing limb can ache. 

He also realizes he's still holding Flint’s hand. “I'm sorry,” he whispers and then lets go, lying back on the pillows in the window seat. He allows Flint to make him drink a little water, and then he falls asleep again, a blessed release from the pain. 

\---

“I can read palms, you know,” Silver says lowly one night while he and Flint are holed up alone together, strategizing. “Learned how as a child,” he says, then picks up the tankard in front of him and drains the rest of the lager in it. He may be a little drunk, but so’s Flint, so it works out. 

“You can do no such thing,” Flint argues genially, then finishes his own drink and thrusts his hand across the table at Silver. “Read it, then, if you're so fucking talented. Tell me my fortune.”

Silver grins to himself and takes Flint’s right hand in his left. “Hmm, let me see. You're going to live to be very old,” he says, tracing his right index finger over Flint's life line. “These here,” he taps the lines at the top of Flint’s palm, “represent children, which is odd because there are three lines and to my knowledge you don't have any offspring.” He glances up at Flint, who minutely shakes his head, then continues. “Fascinating love line, here, Captain. There's a break in it, a gap of some kind,” he murmurs, smoothing his right thumb over the line on Flint's palm. “But then it picks right back up after the gap. I don't think I've ever seen that before.”

He looks at him again, but this time Flint won't meet his gaze. “Worthless nonsense, all of it,” he says softly, and after he speaks Silver realizes he's still holding his hand. It's warm and broad and a little rough. 

“Good thing you didn't pay for your reading, then,” Silver jokes and lets go of his hand quickly, before things get any more awkward. 

\---

Silver has never been very fond of the jungle, what with its rampant large insects and punishing humidity. Now that he's relying on a false leg, he hates it even more. The terrain is soft and unpredictable under his iron foot, and with every step he feels only moments away from falling flat on his face.

At one point he stumbles and nearly crashes into Flint, who's walking directly in front of him. “Sorry,” he says, panting with exertion. He can't take much more of this, but he can't say anything like that. He can't look weak. 

Flint, bless him, just reaches back, offering his arm to help Silver steady himself. Silver grasps him by the hand instead, intending to leverage himself forward so he can walk next to Flint instead of behind him. But the heat is exhausting him and his body betrays him, so he stays a step behind instead. He just can't catch up, but he keeps trying, needing to keep up the illusion of being as strong and fast as he ever was.

After a while he realizes he's still holding Flint’s hand and he immediately lets go, feeling his face flush red. Must be the damnable jungle weather getting to him. 

\---

It's so late at night it may as well be morning. Flint has poured his heart out to Silver, has finally revealed the reason for everything he's been doing - for all the violence and bloodshed, for all the hardships he's endured. The life he's led, the man he's become. It makes a certain strange kind of sense, that Flint is the type of man to fight so fiercely just for love. It suits him. 

They're lying back next to each other in the dying light of the lantern when something crashes loudly in the nearby undergrowth. Silver sits up abruptly and looks wildly about himself, seeing Flint do the same out of the corner of his eye. When neither man nor beast appears from the bushes to kill them both, Silver slowly lets himself relax again. As his breathing slows and his heart calms he gets a pleasant, warm feeling washing over him, and it takes him a moment to realize where it's originating from - he and Flint are holding hands. They must've grabbed hold of one another when the noise startled them. 

“My apologies,” he jokes, dropping Flint’s hand and smiling at him shyly. 

“No need,” Flint says, and smiles back in much the same way. 

\---

Now that Madi is gone, Silver feels nothing but pain. It's like losing his leg all over again, but the location of the wound is different - his chest is gaping open, searing with pain, bleeding. He's dying, he's sure of it.

Only one person dares come to him in his horrifying haze of pain. Only one person touches him, and he reaches out desperately, needing the gentleness of that touch. Needing so much to have something, anything, to ground him in the world of the living. He's losing his grip.

He knows Flint only means to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Silver reaches up and grasps that hand hard, clinging to it for a long moment as though he's drowning and only clutching desperately at Flint will save him.

“John, I'm so sorry,” Flint says softly and Silver just lets go, turning away from Flint and folding his arms on the table. He rests his head on his folded arms and sobs, vaguely feeling Flint put his hand on his shoulder again. 

It's the only thing keeping him from sinking into the floor in an effort to disappear forever, wretched and ruined.

\---

Silver knows they only have so many nights left together. A part of him recognizes with dreadful certainty that once he reveals his plan to Flint, once he ruins the war Flint’s worked so hard for, he'll like as not never see or hear from him again. If he even lives, if Flint doesn't just kill him outright.

So. It stands to reason that he has to make his move while he's got time.

He comes to Flint's cabin at night. He knocks, he waits. When Flint answers he backs him into the room and takes his face in both hands, kissing him with such ardor that their teeth knock together. As Silver expected - hoped, really - Flint responds eagerly, sliding his arms around Silver's waist and pressing their bodies together.

Silver's never loved a man like this before, but Flint has, and teaches him how that night. He finds rapture there in Flint's arms, looking into his eyes, his freckled skin alive and warm under Silver's tingling fingertips and his name heady and delicious on his tongue. _James, James_.

When they've finished, when they're lying on their backs in Flint's bed, both of them grinning huge silly grins at the ceiling, Silver does something he's been fixating on all evening. At long last he purposefully reaches over and takes Flint’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together and giving Flint’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Flint squeezes back and leans over, gracing Silver with a gentle kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are soft and sparkling, and Silver tells himself he must never forget the perfect beauty of that moment.

He falls asleep holding Flint’s hand.


End file.
